Chapter 24

Chapter 24: A Slap

“Wang Jie, brother—congratulations,” Qi Wu said warmly. “Blue Star Hunting Squad is ranked eleventh now. You’re not far from the top ten. I’ll congratulate you early.”

Wang Jie blinked. “You keep track of that?”

“Of course,” Qi Wu said. “Business. You pay attention to everything.”

“It’s Shou Qing Group,” Wang Jie said. “They did the heavy lifting.”

Qi Wu laughed. “Brother, that’s not fair. I know the market. Even Shou Qing Group can’t buy enough disaster materials to make that happen.”

He leaned in, lowering his voice. “That said… Shou Qing Group really does have money. Help me meet that Little Boss, yeah? I’d like to do business.”

“Easy,” Wang Jie said. “No problem.”

Qi Wu looked genuinely pleased, and the two of them chatted as if they were old friends.

Before long, Wang Jie understood what the gathering was really for.

The Trialists were negotiating distribution.

They’d agreed to attend the Shang Jing City meeting under specific terms—war slave release slots, and a promise not to target Blue Star humans. Once they got what they wanted, they’d decide how to split it among themselves.

“Are all the Trialists here?” Wang Jie asked.

Qi Wu shook his head. “No need. Some Trialists know each other. Don’t be fooled by the headcount—this group can represent the interests of twenty or thirty Trialists.”

“As for everyone else…” He shrugged. “If they come, they get a share. If they don’t, they get nothing.”

“And if the others cause trouble?”

“Trialists won’t differ too much in strength,” Qi Wu said. “If the gap was big, they would’ve entered the sect directly. And with a small number, making noise doesn’t matter.”

He smiled. “Plus, a lot of people die in every trial.”

“Then why aren’t you negotiating?” Wang Jie asked.

Qi Wu’s grin turned smug. “No one dares touch my share. Let them argue.”

Wang Jie’s gaze drifted toward the corner.

Wen Zhao stood there, silent.

She looked too proud for gatherings like this, which meant she had a purpose.

Lian Qin and Lian Fei came over, exchanged a few polite words with Wang Jie, then moved on.

Later, after the Trialists finished their discussion, one of them approached Lian Qin and spoke loudly enough that Wang Jie caught his own name.

Wang Jie looked over, confused.

Proposal?

Lian Qin glanced toward Wang Jie and smiled. “I haven’t agreed yet, but he probably won’t refuse. They have feelings for each other, and Shou Qing Group helped connect them. It’s not a bad match.”

Wang Jie went blank.

He looked at Lian Fei.

She was calm.

This was Qing Zheng. It had to be.

The Trialist sneered at Lian Qin. “I can take your daughter out of war slave. How can some useless native compare?”

His eyes turned hungry as he looked at Lian Qin. “And of course… that includes you too, beautiful mother.”

Lian Fei’s brow tightened. The man was openly harassing them.

Wang Jie’s expression cooled.

Misunderstanding or not, being insulted to his face was still insult.

The Trialist leaned toward him, voice low, and said five words:

“After I’m done, I’ll give her to you.”

Wang Jie stopped.

Then he slapped him.

A clean, casual motion—like brushing dust from his palm.

The Trialist flew sideways and crashed into the far wall, leaving a human-shaped dent.

Silence slammed down across the room.

Wang Jie lowered his hand, voice flat. “Trash.”

Faces darkened all around him.

A Trialist had been hit here?

Wen Zhao stared at the unconscious man, startled—and then annoyed. All that acting, wasted.

Even Lian Qin looked shocked. She hadn’t expected such blunt dominance from a Blue Star native.

A Trialist stepped forward, voice controlled but cold. “Friend. There are things you can talk through. Attacking like this is excessive.”

Others moved with him, surrounding Wang Jie.

Wang Jie’s gaze swept over them. This one felt like the organizer. “I’m not a refined man.”

The organizer’s eyes cut to Wen Zhao. “You brought him?”

Wen Zhao nodded.

“Then give us an explanation.”

Wen Zhao looked at Wang Jie, expression unreadable. “I came to use them against a strong enemy. You made this trip worthless.”

Several Trialists blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness.

Wang Jie exhaled. “I didn’t know either.”

“Let’s go,” Wen Zhao said.

The Trialists blocked them.

The organizer’s eyes narrowed. “We could’ve asked nothing and joined hands. Looks like you have your own agenda. Who are you? Where are you from?”

Qi Wu stepped in quickly, hands raised in a calming gesture. “Everyone—negotiations with Blue Star are coming. Fighting each other now just makes you look ridiculous.”

He smiled faintly. “And you don’t really think those trackers on you are only for tracking, do you?”

Wang Jie’s eyes sharpened. Only then did he notice: several Trialists had the same kind of device stuck to them.

The organizer’s gaze deepened. He looked at Wen Zhao for a long moment, then flicked his eyes to Wang Jie.

“Let them go,” he said at last. “After the meeting, we’ll settle this.”

Wang Jie nodded once to Qi Wu and left with Wen Zhao.

As they walked away, someone hissed behind them, furious.

“Brother Chuan, that’s it? That woman has no respect, and that native dared strike first!”

The organizer—Brother Chuan—spoke low. “That woman is likely Wen family.”

Shock rippled through the group.

“Wen family? One of the three great houses?”

“Why would Wen family join a trial?”

Brother Chuan’s gaze shifted to Qi Wu. “Thank you.”

Qi Wu grinned. “Just keep buying from me.”

He’d handed Brother Chuan Wen Zhao’s identity. Without that, it wouldn’t have ended cleanly.

Wen family had the right to look down on them.

They were clawing for a place in Jia Yi Sect.

Wen family was already one of its pillars.

Outside, Wen Zhao glanced at Wang Jie. “Why did you hit him?”

“His mouth was filthy,” Wang Jie said simply.

“You ruined my plan,” Wen Zhao said. “You owe me.”

Wang Jie looked at her. “How?”

“I chose you over them,” Wen Zhao said, calm as ever. “What do you think that means?”

Wang Jie’s eyes narrowed. “You want me to help you deal with Heaven-Insect People.”

Wen Zhao nodded.

“Are they really that strong?” Wang Jie asked.

Wen Zhao met his gaze. “On Blue Star—what do you have the most of?”

Wang Jie almost said mutated creatures… then stopped.

Beasts. Plants.

And the thing they’d ignored for too long.

“Insects,” he said.

“Endless insects,” Wen Zhao agreed. “That girl can command insects. Which means she is an insect sea.”

Wang Jie’s expression tightened. It was like hearing someone could command a beast tide.

Wen Zhao’s eyes curved faintly. “Scared?”

“Not scared,” Wang Jie said. “But it’s trouble.”

“That’s the price of being impulsive,” Wen Zhao said lightly. “You can refuse if you want.”

Wang Jie didn’t answer immediately.

Refuse?

He couldn’t.

He was the one who’d found Wen Zhao. He’d been the one to propose cooperation.

Backing out now would be ugly.

Of course, if it came down to life and death…

Then he’d retreat.

He wasn’t going to die for pride.

They returned to their residence.

The moment Wang Jie saw Qing Zheng, he grabbed him by the collar and hauled him up.

“You did it,” Wang Jie said.

Qing Zheng blinked. “Did what?”

“Lian Fei.”

“Oh!” Qing Zheng brightened instantly. “That woman? Well? Old Boss—did she write your proposal letter? I told old dad a thousand times she has to write it herself. The more sincere, the more moving, the better.”

He leaned in, eyes shining. “If she writes love letters too, even better.”

Wang Jie closed his eyes for a moment.

This misunderstanding was becoming a monster.

Moonlight spilled over the ground like a thin sheet of silver.

Deep underground in Shang Jing City, a screen flashed—two red dots moved.

“Old Teacher,” someone said sharply, “they moved. Two Trialists.”

“Contact Bai Yuan and Sister Tang,” another voice snapped.

“Wait—more moved.”

A heartbeat of silence.

“All of them moved. Where are they going?”

“Sound the alarm.”

The alarm screamed across Shang Jing City, slicing through the night.

At Shou Qing Group’s branch, Old Five’s eyes flew open. He stared toward the window.

“Old Boss,” he said, voice urgent. “A guest is coming.”

Elsewhere, in a clean courtyard, a black cat snapped its head up and howled toward the moon.

Bai Xiao sat up, heart pounding. “Little Black…?”

White light flashed through the yard—thin, deadly lines stabbing inward.

Bai Xiao grabbed the blanket and flung it.

The soft cloth tore through a wall and blocked the lights for a heartbeat… and then was pierced through like paper.

Eight figures appeared at the courtyard’s edges.

Kill.

With a boom, the house shattered.

Bai Yuan opened his eyes, sword already in hand.

He slashed once.

Someone died.

Under the moonlight, Bai Yuan recognized the face and his eyes turned murderous.

“Shen Feng Hunting Squad.”

Farther out, more figures emerged, charging toward him. Their leader was Brother Chuan.

The Shang Jing City meeting had been bait.

The real goal was murder.

Kill Hua Xia’s top defenders, and no one would resist.

At the same time, Sister Tang was attacked too—two Trialists, both Eighth Seal, confident they could take her head.

Instead, they walked into an ambush.

Sister Tang’s hunting squad elites were already waiting at her home.

On Bai Yuan’s side, Brother Chuan and the others chased Shen Feng Hunting Squad’s killers… and then two of their own were dragged backward by invisible force.

Brother Chuan spun. “Who?”

A figure stepped out from behind a tree.

Young face.

A faint, amused smile.

“Again?” the man said. “We meet again.”

Brother Chuan’s face twisted in shock. “Zuo Tian? Why are you here?”

“Trialists,” Zuo Tian said lightly. “Still stupid in the end.”

He lifted both hands and grasped the air.

Two Eighth Seal cultivators froze—then were hauled into the air, bodies locked down by sheer force.

Brother Chuan’s eyes widened. “One of the eighteen ultimate techniques… Void-Grasping Hand?”

“Don’t be so surprised,” Zuo Tian said. “Bai Yuan already killed all your people.”

Shang Jing City erupted.

Eighth Seal battles were never quiet.

Wang Jie’s residence wasn’t spared.

Old Five caught the approach early—two Eighth Seal Trialists, one of them the very man Wang Jie had slapped unconscious at the gathering.

Their original mission was to assassinate Sister Tang. But on the way, they decided to deal with Wang Jie first.

They struck.

And the moment they did, they understood how badly they’d miscalculated.

Wang Jie snatched the specially made battle saber as if it weighed nothing. The man with the swollen cheek stared, dazed.

Too fast.

Jia Eight Steps?

Before he could even breathe, pain detonated across his back—his own saber’s hilt smashing into him.

He crumpled.

The second Trialist felt cold regret bloom in his gut.

He turned and ran.

Eighth Seal power erupted, aura surging high enough to shatter windows along the street.

Wang Jie didn’t chase.

He flicked a hand.

One Blade.

The strike pierced through the fleeing Trialist’s body. Blood sprayed across the stone.

Wang Jie walked up slowly.

He looked down at the man gasping on the ground, then raised the saber.

The Trialist’s eyes went wide. “Don’t—”

Wang Jie slashed.

Blood splattered.

There was no medicine for regret.

Wang Jie had no intention of leaving an enemy alive.

And just as he finished, Old Five’s voice snapped sharp in his ear.

“Old Boss—left!”